


The Man Who Can't be Moved

by LoveHOOKed



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Musician Captain Hook | Killian Jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 02:31:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7600009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveHOOKed/pseuds/LoveHOOKed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian waits for Emma every Sunday at their corner, hoping one day she will come back to him.</p>
<p>This little story was inspired by "The Man Who Can't be Moved" by The Script, whose lead singer is also a hot Irishman called Danny O'Donoghue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Man Who Can't be Moved

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first time switching POV, my first time writing from Killian's POV and my first time using flashbacks so I hope it's not too much of a mess!
> 
> Also, apologies to any followers who were hoping for Smut, I decided to try my hand at something different, but I hope you still like it.

Killian woke up as he did every Sunday. He blindly reached around the bed for the warm body curled up next to him only to find a empty space. He opened his eyes slowly and his heart sank. She wasn't here. She hadn't been here for the last 3 months and she would likely never be here again. He quickly tampered down those thoughts as he got out of bed. He had hope. He would never give up on Emma Swan. Killian Jones was a patient man, and he was in this for the long haul. As he went about his usual Sunday routine - showering, dressing, coffee and breakfast - his mind drifted to that day a year ago when he met his Swan.

 

_The little town of Storybrooke was buzzing with activity, much busier than one would expect of a Sunday morning. Killian had a few musician friends who had advised him that Sunday brunch was prime time for buskers. It was his first time playing to the public, but he really need the practice and exposure (and any spare change couldn't hurt either). He picked the little corner on Main Street which led to Granny's - the best diner in town. It was bound to be a hot spot of activity._

_Once the mic, portable speaker and guitar were all set up, Killian took a a deep breath in. He let it out slowly, along with his nerves and put is performers mask on. His signature smirk was always a hit with the ladies, and with that, he began to play._

_It only took a couple of songs for him to really get into it. He couldn't have kept the smile off his face if he tried. Music was everything to him and he's been trying so long to make it, he just couldn't get a break. But right now, on this little corner, he couldn't care less. He was happy. He turned the charm up a notch and started flirting with the female passers by, throwing them winks and smiles and singing as if directly to them. They were lapping it up, blushing or flirting back, and his money bucket was filling up quicker than he imagined._

_He seamlessly transitioned to his next song when he could have sworn he saw an angel. Long blond curls flowing down over a red leather jacket, jeans tight in all the right places, legs that went on for miles. He couldn't resist, he had to sing this song to her. As she approached, he swaggered towards her, singing his lines, wiggling his eyebrows and winking at her. She rolled her sparkling green eyes at him as she kept on walking and he thought it was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. He made a vow to himself right then, he's be returning to this exact spot next Sunday, and everyone after that if necessary. He just had to see her again._

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Emma woke up to her phone buzzing loudly on her bedside table and groaned. She consumed way too much Whisky last night and her head way pounding way too much for the obnoxiously loud device. She felt around the table until her hand landed on her target and managed to answer without having to open her eyes and croaked a sleepy hello.

"Emma", Mary Margaret seemingly shouted down the phone "we've been waiting at the diner for 15 minutes, are you not coming to brunch today?" Emma briefly considered declining so she could sleep some more, but her stomach growled and she realised food and coffee were the only things that would make her feel human again today.

"Shit, sorry I overslept", she apologised, then before Mary Margaret could chastise her for her poor time keeping she hastily added "order me the usual and I'll be there in a few" and hung up the phone.

Emma jumped in the shower, threw on some clean clothes and pulled her hair back in a ponytail. Once she was satisfied she looked presentable she jumped in the bug and headed to Granny's. She knew driving there seemed ridiculous considering how close she lives, but she couldn't risk walking there and passing their corner and seeing him there. Just the thought of it alone had the memories rushing back.

 

_Emma hurried down Main Street towards the diner. She had a standing brunch date with her foster brother David and his wife Mary Margaret every Sunday, and she was almost always late. As she approached the street she needed to turn down she muttered a curse under her breath. The latest busker that decided to take residence on the corner, and she didn't have time to fight through a crowd if she wanted to avoid a time keeping lecture AGAIN._

_When Emma saw the busker in question she raised an eyebrow and unconsciously licked her lips. His dark jeans were sinfully tight revealing a very fine behind. He was wearing boots and a leather jacket and looked like a typical bad boy. As he turned towards her, she could see he was wearing a dark shirt, barley buttoned up and revealing a smattering of dark chest hair, to match the messy dark locks on his head. She suddenly had the inexplicable urge to run her fingers through it. On top of all that he was wearing a dark leather vest. He pulled it off well. Really well. If she'd met him at the bar last night she definitely would've made it her mission to unwrap that leather bound package._

_She mentally scalded herself for thinking like that on a Sunday morning, and carried on walking toward her destination. As she got closer she could hear how beautiful his voice was and could have sworn she detected an accent. The singer stepped out in front of her with a shit eating grin on his face and winked at her. She had to roll her eyes at that, he probably did that to all the pretty girls. Though she couldn't help but notice those bright blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. She'd never really taken much notice of men's eyes before but she found herself drawn to his. Emma kept on walking, and as she rounded the corner she smiled to herself and wondered if she'd see him again._

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Killian arrived at his spot and got his equipment set up. He's done it so many times now he barely has to think about it. He did stop busking briefly when things were good with Emma, when he would join her and her family for brunch on a Sunday and tuck her into his side in the booth at Granny's. He'd felt like the luckiest man in the world. He couldn't imagine what he'd done to deserve her and made sure to show her how grateful he was be with her every chance he got. At least he thought he had. As he prepared to start his set, which was much more sombre and melancholy these days, he checked over his equipment one last time. Everything was ready to go, the only thing was missing was his money bucket. But he doesn't need that today, he doesn't want the money. He's not broke he's just a broken hearted man. Besides, looking at that damned money bucket only brings him pain. It's a reminder of the day that changed his life forever. The day he fell in love with Emma Swan.

 

_True to his vow, Killian had returned to play at that exact same spot every Sunday, and every Sunday without fail he saw the blonde goddess again. It might have been his imagination but he felt like she was warming up to him as the weeks went by. He continued directing his performances at her whenever she passed and he could have sworn the last couple of weeks she'd smiled at him._

_During a moment of distraction a man with his hood pulled up grabbed the money bucket and made a run or it. Before he could even think to act, he saw a flash of red run past him and heard a commotion in the crowd. He walked as far forward as his wires would allow and his mouth dropped open at the sight before him. That beautiful, brave lass had tackled the culprit to the ground, had his arms behind his back and was slapping handcuffs on him. Once the police had questioned everyone involved thoroughly and whisked the offender away, she approached him holding his bucket._

_"_ _Hey, so I believe this is yours. It should all be there although I may have lost a penny or two when I took the asshole down"._

_Wanting to know more about this brave, fierce and intriguing lass he made a split decision to ask her out "I owe you my thanks love, Killian Jones, at your service. Let me buy you lunch to show my appreciation"._

_She turned down his offer but when she walked past on her way to brunch the following week and saw his cardboard sign saying "Emma Swan, call me" with his number there for all the world to see she called him. It was worth having to change his number._

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Emma parked her little yellow bug in the nearest parking lot to the diner - that was still quite a walk away - she couldn't help but feel stupid at the lengths she'd been going to so she wouldn't have to see Killian again. Things had been going so well. He'd fit into her life seamlessly, joining in with the Sunday brunch routine, getting on well with all her friends and being there for her like no other boyfriend had before. He was so good to her, and she couldn't believe how lucky she was. The insecure, orphan girl that still resided deep within her often told her she wasn't good enough for him. That no-one would ever love her enough to stay, even him. They'd spent a perfect 6 months together and she was so deliriously happy. Until that one night, when it had all come crashing down.

 

_Killian was supposed to be coming over for the night and he was 2 hours late. It was so unlike him and she checked her phone for the fifth time. There were no messages or calls to explain where he was. Panic started to set in._ _What if something happened to him? She snatched her phone up to call him and started to pace the room._

_He wasn't picking up and all she could think about was what if. What if he'd been in a terrible accident and she lost him? What if she never saw him again? What if he decided she wasn't worth staying for and never came back? She knew that he wouldn't leave, but the thought of losing him in any scenario had tears springing to her eyes. She couldn't lose him. She wouldn't survive. She loved him. The sudden realisation of her feelings hit her like a ton of bricks. She loved him. She'd lost everyone she'd ever loved before, she couldn’t lose him too. The thoughts had her mind reeling, and her instinct to run reared it’s head. She had to put a stop to this before it went any further and she got hurt. She was distracted by the sound of his key in the lock._

_Killian stumbled through the door, an apology on his lips, but she cut him off. "I can't do this anymore, I'm sorry" she said, as calmly as she could muster though her hands were trembling. "_

_Swan...?" Killian pleaded, and it came out like a question. He had confusion written all over his face. She couldn’t bear to see the hurt in his eyes so she looked away and cut him off again. "This isn't working, you need to leave" she said as she turned and locked herself in the bathroom._

_He'd banged on the door for a good hour begging her to come out and explain, telling her that he loved her, apologising for anything he might have done wrong. She just sat in the floor crying as silently as possible until he finally gave in and left with a tearful goodbye through the door. She told herself it was for the best as she dragged herself to bed when the coast was clear. She curled up under the blankets and continued to cry._

_Killian called every day for a week, and she ignored all the calls. The following Sunday he left her a voicemail. She almost deleted it without listening, but something made her want to hear his voice one last time. She pressed play and her heart stopped in her chest when she heard the broken tone f his voice, "Swan, if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me, you'll see me waiting for you on the corner of the street. I love you". She swore that day that she could never pass that corner again. She knew her resolve would crumble if she did._

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Killian packed up his equipment and loaded it into his car, ready to go home. She didn't come. It has been months now, every Sunday without fail he'd be there at their corner, singing for her. And every Sunday he'd have to go home without having seen her again. His heart broke all over again, just like it did that night, and every Sunday since. He still doesn't know what he did to make her run. He'd not even told her he loved her, he had been desperate to let her know how precious she was to him, but he was afraid it would scare her away, that she wasn’t ready for it. But she left anyway. Perhaps if he’d told her sooner she would have stayed.

He told her that night before he left because he couldn't bear the thought of never having said the words. Of course he'd imagined saying them to her a hundred times but never had any of these scenarios been through a bathroom door with tear stained cheeks.

Killian has promised himself every day that he won't give up on her, that he'll wait for her. He had been so sure she felt the same as him. Was he crazy to think so? He doesn’t care if everyone thinks he is, he will come back to the corner next Sunday, and the Sunday after that. He has all the time in the world.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Emma leans back in the booth, feeling full from her grilled cheese and onion rings. David has managed to distract her throughout brunch talking about current and upcoming cases, but now the conversation has reached a natural lull and her mind is drifting to thoughts of Killian again.

Mary Margaret interrupts by not-so-casually bringing the topic up. "So we walked past your corner on the way here" she says over the top of her mug of tea.

Emma rolls her eyes. "OK, look, I don't need to hear how heartbroken he looks, or what he was singing, or wearing or anything like that thanks. I’m not interested" she tries to say as convincingly as possible.

"I was just going to say, he wasn't there today" her sister in law adds almost too innocently. She can see David shooting her a look and mumble something about meddling, but she can't really hear through the ringing in her ears. Her heart has dropped to her stomach. He's gone. He said he'd be waiting for her, he'd been there every Sunday for months, and now he's gone.

Isn't this what she wanted? To be able to walk by on a Sunday without risking bumping into him and having the pain of missing him, and the guilt for hurting him eat her alive. But now that she's got her wish, she realises she didn't want it at all. She wanted him to stay, to be the one that was different. She makes her excuses and leaves the diner as fast as she can, not wanting her family to see the tears that are threatening to fall.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Killian woke up the following Sunday as he did every Sunday. He blindly reached around the bed for the warm body curled up next to him only to find empty space. He opened his eyes slowly and his heart sank. She wasn't here. She hadn't been here for the last 3 months and she would likely never be here again. He quickly tampered down those thoughts as he got out of bed. He had hope. He would never give up on Emma Swan. Killian Jones was a patient man, and he was in this for the long haul.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Emma has spent the entire week trying to sort through her feelings towards the news that Killian was no longer taking up residence at their corner. She couldn’t sleep so she's up and ready early for brunch for a change.

She’s being selfish to expect him to hang around waiting for her when she’s never even given him a reason to, but she never thought he'd leave her. It has been months now and she never showed up, he couldn't wait there every Sunday forever could he? He should move on, he deserves to be happy. The thought of him with someone else hurts as much now as it did when they were together. Emma realises then, that she hasn’t moved on either. Not even tried. She feels the beginnings of hope to blossom.

Maybe he was just busy last Sunday? Maybe he was late? Maybe he's got the flu? Emma tells herself it's just curiosity, or even friendly concern because he could be sick, but she decides it's a nice day for a walk anyway and it wouldn't hurt to just look from afar, just to make sure he's ok right?

She sets off down Main Street, and as she approaches the corner her heart swells. She would recognise that voice anywhere. That beautiful, accented voice that sounds sad. It pains her when she realises it's all because of her. He's still there, as he promised he would be, and she feels the tears welling up in her eyes. She promised herself that she was only looking from afar but now that she's here and her eyes land on the cardboard sign he has behind him, the one she recognises from the beginning of their time together - "Emma Swan - call me" – she feels herself being pulled forward like a magnet. Because he's here. He didn't leave.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Killian is in the middle of particularly sad song, pouring all of his heartbreak into it, when he looks up and has to blink furiously at the sight before him. Golden blonde hair, long legs, red leather jacket and green eyes that look glassy with - are they tears? He can't tear his eyes away from her, and he wants nothing more that to talk to her while she's here, in case this is his one and only chance to convince her to come back to him. He discreetly cuts his song short and gently places his guitar down.

"Swan" he breathes as she moves towards him, and his hand instinctively goes to reach for her. He clenches it into a fist to stop himself. He doesn't think he can touch her if she's going to run again. If he touches her again he'll never want to let go.

"You're here" she whispers to him.

"Aye" he nods. "I promised you I'd be here waiting and I have been. Every week, just like before."

She throws her arms around him sobbing and speaking muffled words into his neck. He thinks he can hear her say she's sorry and she's missed him but all he can do is wrap his arms around her tighter and cling on for dear life.

She pulls her head back and closes her eyes as she whispers "You didn't leave". H leans forward and whispers into hear ear "I'm the man who can't be moved". The answering kiss she gives him feels like all his birthdays and Christmases have come at once. His hands find their way into her hair, her beautiful silky hair, and gods he’s missed this. He doesn’t know how he survived so long without it.

After a few moments, he pulls back to rest his forehead on hers and catch his breath. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but for his sanity he needs to know “Swan, just tell me why?” he pleads. It’s all he thinks he’s capable of saying right now, breathless as he is.

“I was scared”. She responds shyly. “I was so afraid of losing you that I pushed you away. Then last week Mary Margaret said you weren’t here and I realised that I was still clinging onto the thought of you and I missed you so much and.....” He cut her off with a chuckle. “She’s a clever woman” he chuckles, “I was here last week, and she knew that because she stopped for a chat!”. Emma laughs then and he thinks it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Emma steps into the diner 30 minutes late that day, but she can't bring herself to care when her fingers are linked with Killian's after months without feeling his warmth.

She knows Mary Margaret is about to chastise her when she spots him walk in behind her. She can't keep the self satisfied smile off her face and David is just as thrilled to see his mate again.

They sit down to brunch just like old times, and when Killian lifts her hand to his lips to press a soft kiss to her knuckles, she realises how much time she wasted because she could have had this all along. So when they bid their goodbyes and leave the diner together she stops him outside and tells him the one thing she should have told instead of breaking his heart.

"I love you".

And when he responds by lifting her off the ground to kiss the life out of her, she makes a mental note to thank Mary Margaret for her meddling. For he really was the man who can’t be moved, and he’s here to stay this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Mary Margaret is a cheeky little meddler in this fic!
> 
> Let me know what you think, constructive criticism welcome because I am an amateur


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